Wednesday, 31 July 2013

Given that I've not yet completed the write up for Bridge Over the River Chai yet, it would be wholly inappropriate for me to craft a similar level of narrative and output for this fight (out of respect to the others involved). I would dearly love to, but I must also acknowledge that the thing that has stopped me from completing that story would most likely stop me from completing this one: lack of time.

So please forgive me if the narrative is a bit more mechanical this time around - I have used this opportunity to try to highlight WFB3 game mechanics, in preparation for the Bring Out Your Lead! 2013 event at Foundry later in August.

Text in blue italics will highlight any rules I'm discussing. These are not complete discussions - just enough to broadly highlight the rule, why its happening - enough to remind you that this is possible. Hopefully, this should help jog your memory, and at the very least, remind you of some of the options you have available that later editions of Warhammer have taken away from you.

Also, as mentioned in the previous post - the weather had been most un-English and understandably refused to co-operate on the day. Blazing sun was cut short by irritating little clouds followed again by blazing sun followed by the perfect grey lighting - it was all over the place. This means that some of the pictures have amazing light, whilst others ended up being taken with the flash. I apologise for this inconsistency. In all, 196 pictures were taken - and I assure that that the 40 or so that make into this report are the best I could get from that lot.

Finally, I've changed the image settings on the blog. I had disabled the lightbox thing that has the images pop up in the small box, in favour of having the image open to a larger size as a new navigation. Unfortunately, it seems that the back button no longer returns the poor reader to their exact location on the blog - it just dumps you at the beginning. As a result, I've enabled the lightbox now, so if you do want to see the full image, you'll need to right-click and open it in a new tab or window. Of course, you're an experienced oldhammer blog reader already, so this is old hat to you.

These were the positions as recorded on the morning of the attack on Mourning Glory. The Halberdiers had elected for as wide a rank as they could fit on the road leading into the village, in front of the bridge. This woud give them some room to fall back, as well as serving as a defile where the massed ranks of the enemy would have no effect.

The goblins primary approach was from the south. Desperation meant that Grommbo was reluctant to instruct a specific order of battle - he knew the elves were breathing down his neck and so he just wanted to get into the village as soon as possible. His plan centred squarely on using the trolls to drive through the defenders without the rest of the force even breaking a sweat. If that happened, they could just move straight into the village and take up defensive positions. Grommbo was already considering how the Lead Belcher would need to be positioned to watch over the bridge when the elves arrived...

Grommbo was towing the warmachine with his chariot. They had lost the donkeys in the assault on the trading post, and Grommbo was reluctant to just let the crew push the thing - lest they desert and cause him the loss of what was now the tribe's most valuable asset. Better to have the thing right under his nose, he thought.

Grommbo had instructed one unit of sticka's to scout the approach from the west, looking out for those dastardly elves or any other surprises that would throw the attack. Clearly, they were bloody dreadful scouts, because the trolls arrived at the road before the bloody scouts did. Fortunately, it seemed, they were in good spirits - a clear indication that the scouts hadn't encountered anything remotely concerning - or, at least, had avoided anything dangerous looking and were keeping quiet about it.

Dumbel Doore considered the various positions in which to position himself. Even as an experienced dungeoneer, he'd not ever had to fight trolls before. Seeing the legendary things for the first time both thrilled and horrified him: he knew they were made up of some of the rarest magical ingredients in the field - but they were rare with good reason - the Trolls didn't make getting them easy.

If nothing else, I can jump off the bridge, I suppose, he thought to himself as the goblin war horn sounded.

Turn 1:

The goblins, being the desperate attackers, were given the first turn.

Grommbo opens proceedings by towing the Lead Belcher up the hill. The sticka's to his right held ground, drawing a bead on the halberdiers up the road.

This being only a small tribe of goblins, all the units successfully passed their animosity tests! Surprisingly, the Trolls also passed their stupidity test on their own Cl (psychology tests are taken against Cool, not Leadership in WFB3) and so lumbered forward, wheeling into the road. Unfortunately, they failed their second manoeuvre (being a second wheel to have them face the east), so they stopped bang in the middle of the road. The scouting sticka group moved up the road, taking position behind the comforting presence of the ginormous trolls and waiting for the Gobbo's coming in from the south to move before them.

In WFB3, units can make manoeuvres. This is actually how wheeling, expanding or closing ranks and other simple formation 'changes' take place. Most moving activities are considered simple manoeuvres, of which a unit may make up to three - provided a leadership test is passed, of course. The first simple manoeuvre any unit attempts is always successful. If you fail the test, the unit simply stops moving and can attempt no further manoeuvres until its Reserve phase. Be careful which manoeuvre you attempt first, because failing the second one could leave your unit exposed!

For information and a sense of completeness, units may also attempt complex manoeuvres - these are for the most complex formations or activities (such as wheeling backwards). You can only do one of these a turn and it always requires a leadership test to do. Bear in mind, you can either do up to three simple manoeuvres, or one complex manoeuvre.

In the reserves phase (In WFB3, there are no march moves. Rather, there is a move in the Movement phase, and, provided you are not under any compulsory movement requirements, or within 4" of an enemy, you are normally entitled to make another move in the Reserves phase), the trolls complete their wheel and carry on towards the village. Grommbo instructs the sticka's on the left flank to get off the road and take up position on the banks of the river, allowing them to fire into the village and protect the left flank.

They make a 90 degree turn and start crossing the hedge. Figures changing direction costs no move in WFB3, so figures in units can turn right around and still have all their move. Whilst a unit is crossing an obstacle (considered difficult terrain), they will move at half distance. This means that typically, a unit of four ranks will take two turns (or one move and one reserve if they start in the move phase) to cross a 1" obstacle. Don't be afraid of crossing terrain in WFB3 - it is still slow to cross over, but without a turn limit, WFB3 gives you much more time to manoeuvre - scenery is not the time sink it is in later editions of the game! One thing worth noting, however, is that if your unit is charged whilst crossing an obstacle, they must take a panic test - so don't do this near an enemy if you don't have to!

Big 'Red' Testeese orders his gobbo's into the road. They don't have enough move to get completely on, so they'll need to wait for the next turn.

We've not really discussed the Halberdiers this turn - that is because they didn't do anything in their turn.

But - young Dumbel Doore did cast a spell in his Magic phase. Unlike later editions, where the magic phase usually happens after Movement, the Magic phase occurs at the end of the turn. Also worth noting is that each wizard may only cast one spell per turn - a dramatic change from later editions!

In this case, Dumbel Doore decided to cast Leg Breaking on Grommble (attached to the trolls). In this case, Grommble is entitled to a magic saving throw (specified in the spell description). A magic saving throw is a test against the unit's Will Power (WP). Unfortunately for Grommble, he fails his WP test and collapses to the floor with a loud and wince-inducing crack! Leg breaking will reduce the victim's Movement (M) by half.

Saturday, 27 July 2013

If you are a consumer of British non-commercial digital writing - say, like this blog, or any number of related oldhammer blogs, you might have found yourself troubled by the sudden and alarming drop in output for the month of July.

Now, rest assured, dear reader - there is good reason.

July started with wild panic, really. We, in England, all woke up with a new and terrifying entity issuing forth from the heavens proclaiming the end of the world. A large and horrific ball of fire had appeared out of nowhere and seemed intent on burning our insignificant carcasses from the planet. After frantic phone calls to the army, the church and my local MP, I was given to understand that the burning orb of terror was in fact the sun and, furthermore, was supposed to be there.

Rumour has it that this thing appears on a regular basis in other parts of the world. In fact, many assert that a certain amount of exposure to it is actually good for you. As a result, I found the sudden warmth and light quite refreshing - liberating, if you will.

So I, and no doubt every blogger on this island, including our peculiar breed of oldhammerers, have spent day upon day absorbing these health rays from heaven. Absorbing is a busy old task, which unfortunately interrupts the otherwise necessary activity of blogging, you see. We have to look after the health, after all.

Today, however, the sun has elected to shine elsewhere, whilst the more comfortable and familiar blanket of greyness has returned. Happy that the world was back in its right form, what with England being grey and wet, I have settled into the evening with a nice bit of blogging and a cup of Yorkshire tea.

Onto the purpose of the post. It did say Battle Report, after all. You were not mistaken.

So a strange thing happened to me yesterday. The Minister of the Interior declared that she was going to go out and visit some people. And she was going to take the apple of my eye, the heir to my kingdom and the centre of my universe with her. They were to be gone all day.

Now I confess, dear reader - I've had dark fantasies about this exact moment. The time when my wife and child were happily amused elsewhere and I was left alone at home - alone with my wild thoughts and desperate urges.

So I did it.

I, uh, well...I played with myself.

As soon as the good lady had driven out of sight, I rushed into the house, frantic fingers clutching at well thumbed pages, hunting for satisfaction.

It was glorious. It was everything I hoped it would be. And you, good reader, can live vicariously through my experience, because I took pictures of the whole thing...
This is the first time that I've ever played any (non-video) game solo. I know there are many clever ways to implement artificial intelligence and introduce scripts to your 'opponent'. I didn't think I had the time to investigate, so I just played both sides. My rule was simple: when in the mind of each 'player', always take the most tactically advantageous route available. This included awareness of rules, so it sat outside of pure roleplaying and factored in a little meta-gaming. I thought this was the fairest way to challenge each side.

I'm lucky in that I'm either (a) an idiot, (b) a genius or (c) have multiple personalities, because I am able to cut off my predictive planning mind and allow it to explore only the here-and-now, so I wasn't too concerned about self sabotage.

Finally, I promised myself that I would abide by every dice roll - I would not respect the narrative that I hoped for, but rather, find a narrative for the events that transpired. It should be no surprise, then, that the story turned out exactly as it should have. Because I wasn't involved.

My first stage was to print out some old school army rosters. Too late I realised my error: I printed them in colour. What I should have done is printed one in black and white and then photo copied it to get the same look as they would have had back in 1990. Next time.

Second stage was to select a range of painted figures that would do. This was done based on what I knew was easily accessible. I only had a day, so I needed to keep it small. I didn't care about points (I still have no idea how many points the things I chose cost) - I tried to create something that just looked right. And, of course, the soldiers I had available were a natural limiter - you know, like real war.

Just so you know, I randomly determined the presence of characters, their equipment and their levels. The only place I intervened (as GM) was with Grommbo and Victoria Seacrette - I set their levels at the start.

The battle centres around the small farming village of Mourning Glory. The village is an isolated community about two days ride from the nearest fort, so it doesn't enjoy much protection from its liege lord, Count Tuten. As luck would have it, when the goblin horde of the Brothers Gromm attacked, a small patrol of the Count's men had just arrived. They helped to evacuate the village before taking position at the entrance of the village. Fortune showed more favour to the residents of Mourning Glory: two hardy adventurers were also staying there, recovering from their latest dungeon exploration. Being brave and forthright, they agreed to help defend the village.

The Goblin Horde of the Brothers Gromm uses the term 'horde' fairly loosely. That said, what self respecting goblin general would refer to his force as a gang or a club? Headed up by the curiously cooperative Brothers Gromm - Grommble and Grommbo, the tribe have found themselves on hard times. Many weeks ago, the brothers directed an attack against what they thought was a small and helpless trading post on the coast. What they had encountered, however, was a shipping outpost established by the Sea Elves. It is a well known fact that goblins find the mere presence of elves quite disturbing and suffice it to say that the attack was repulsed.

But the brothers had not factored in the vengeful nature of the elves. Shortly after the attack, Grommble and Grommbo realised they were being tracked by contingent of Sea Elf marines - fast, motivated and well equipped.

The goblins, having already lost most of their resources in the defeat, were desperate for supplies - they could neither evade nor stand against the elves in their present state. Thus, the brothers Gromm elected to attack the first village they encountered - Mourning Glory as it happened. Hopefully, they would be able to resupply and establish a solid defence - enough to deter the elves from an attack.

The Marines of Toylette Duc have been in hot pursuit of the goblin menace for just over a week now. They had only been stationed at the outpost for three days and it was evident to Commander Bhondd that the knowledge the goblins had of the local terrain was the real enemy - the elves were close, but never close enough to engage.

Commander Bhondd suspected that the goblins were pressed for resources, for despite the mess they left behind each camp, it was nowhere near as much as he had experienced with other greenskins - a breed especially wasteful and careless. They must be desperate if they were eating what they themselves would normally throw away.

The Marines gambled that the goblins would therefore head for some sort of supply base - their charts indicated that the nearest obvious point would be the human hovel of Mourning Glory. That's the place, thought Commander Bhondd. This ends there.

Of course, you will notice that the figures employed for the elves are not the beautiful classic elves of the period that I have secreted around my house. Rather, these are the painted 6th edition elves I had from my previous life as an immature gamer. Painted, I reasoned, was better than unpainted, and present better than not-present. If it makes you feel better, I have enough classic elves to replicate this force - they're just not painted (yet).